I had quite the interesting start to my trip on Monday. After everybody got onto the plane, the pilot then announced that there were caterer strikes in Argentina and consequently they would have to bring food from Australia for the return leg home, and this meaning that there would be less food served on the flight. 1 meal in 14 hours was what this translated to. When I got to Buenos Aires, i absolutely obliterated the McDonalds. On the flight I was at the very back of the plane. Fortunately for me and another guy, we were the only people on the flight to have spare seats next to us. Also at the back of the plane was a very ‘interesting’ flight attendant. We got talking and I asked him what he thought of Argentina. His response was ‘I hate it, the government is corrupt, you can always tell how a country is by the size of the fences and the quality of footpaths’. Just the type of comment that you want to hear when you have spent $3000 on a flight for a holiday that you are hoping to be awesome. Fair comment though. After explaining to him what I was doing in Argentina, the attendant asked me to ask the head coach at the club I was playing at Rosario a question. Confused, I said ‘sure, what is it’? He replied ‘Can you ask him why they think that soccer is more important than any other sport’. I could have been diplomatic and responded with a ‘they don’t, its just the only sport that they are accustomed to’ or even an ambiguous ‘I don’t know’. But no, I said to him ‘because it is the best sport in the world’. He said that my comment was riddled by arrogance and that that type of attitude ‘really pisses him off’ because at his local cricket shire the soccer players are really inconsiderate. I then told him that we would probably have more respect for cricketers if the Australian national team didn’t go all out for 48 runs like they did last week. Perhaps this is the reason I only got one meal.
Anyway, the attendant then went on to tell me about his cricketing career. Apparently he was on track to be playing in the Australian team one day and could swing the ball better than anybody else. However, he was involved in a cricketing disaster which was the reason why he stopped playing. Now this wasn’t your typical sports injury related disaster which immobilised the player. Apparently, he always had a mantra that he was there to play the sport and play the sport only, i.e. not involve himself in any sort of sledging or attempts to hurt people whilst bowling (boring I know). However, on one particular state league game he got really riled up by the opposition after he got smashed for 4 about 3 times in a row. Angry and frustrated he bowled a bouncer at the player with ferocity. The ball bounced up very quickly and struck the mans plexi glass helmet, shattered it completely into the man’s forehead and the batman was left bleeding profusely next to the stumps. It was a terrible accident and left a zig zag scar on the batsmen’s forehead (about 30 stiches worth). The attendant said from that day onwards, he would never play cricket again. A few years later he ran into the zig zagged scarred victim at a Christian camp and apologised for what he did. The attendant then said ‘You know what, when I ran into him, it was like running into a modern day Jesus- you know- there he was bearing my sins on his head’. Really? Like really? Voldemort here was claiming that the Harry Potter scar he gave had religious connotations. He then started some preaching and then was enough for me to start watching a movie.
Being at the back of the plane meant that when we touched down in BA I was the last person to go through customs. It took 2 hours to get through and for some reason, Australians have to pay more than anyone else for a visa here. I then went to the bus company and tried to get on a bus to Rosario. The man at the counter asked ‘do you have a reservation’? I said no I don’t, and he just says ‘next please’. I had to line up again to ask if I could book a bus for the day. This ultra friendly guy then said that I have to ring up and do it, and also that there were no buses left for the day. I asked about a taxi. $400- so that was a big no. A taxi to the BA city centre was a massive rip off at $70. My inner jew couldn’t justify this so I took the risky option of catching a local bus instead. I had to walk about 1km away from the airport to find it and then the bus driver wouldn’t let me on because I had no coins/was a tourist, but then some friendly guy paid for my ticket. It was 50 cents. Glad I didn’t take the cab. Although, the bus ride did take 3 times as long and we went through some fairly dodgy parts of town.
Being a really organised person, of course I had a map, a lonely planet guide and an address of where I was going...not. I had none of the above, so I made a rule that after I saw the word Hotel three times I would get off and find a room for the night and take the bus to Rosario the next day. No one could really speak English so I was in trouble town. Eventually I got off, not knowing where I was or where I was going. So i hopped in a taxi, with a guy who didn’t speak English, told him to go to a fancy hotel that I had seen (where the concierge would most likely speak English) and then the concierge translated for me that I needed to go to a nearby hostel. The taxi driver took me to this place and there was just a small wooden door out the front- like someone’s house. I told him here must have been some mistake as this clearly was not a hostel. He told me to knock, and yep... I was very wrong. There was an awesome hostel inside.
I met a few Australian guys when we were there and ended up going to this concert. It was really cool and there were 19 people all playing drums at the same time. We then went back to the hostel where there was a bit of a party starting up. I thought it was going to be a fairly tame night however, all these people from other hostels came over to our place and it turned out to be pretty large. Next thing you know there was a big break dancing circle and just behind them was a guy standing there doing a Mangina. (Dad if you reading this and are unsure about this term, google it). I then dared him to make it a flaming Mangina. He agreed. It made the place smell terrible. (Dad, google ‘flaming Mangina’ this time). Anyway so in Argentina, most people don’t even start to go to the clubs until about 4am, but I was absolutely wrecked and when I went up for a small ‘siesta’, I passed out and missed out on most of the night. But it was all good because I was finally organised to get to the town which I wanted to be in, Rosario!
If you thought that I was bad at dancing in Australia, then you cannot even imagine how badly polarised my dancing skills were here. On Saturday night we had a wedding at the house that I am staying at. It was my host sister’s wedding, Paulina. She and her new husband Gonzalo met on facebook exactly one year ago to the day- so they thought it would be appropriate to have a wedding on the same today. Pretty cool eh? I’ve always thought that people get involved in the online dating scene as being a bit strange/white and lanky. However, here they were, both two very normal and attractive people. Gonzalo actually gave his new wife a really nice present, it was a print out of all the conversations that they had together from the day that they met on facebook. She bought him some tickets to Indonesia (he is a surf teacher), so he was insanely happy when he got given them.
Anyway, so we spent most of Saturday getting ready for the wedding. This just involved preparing the food, setting up furniture and chairs etc. The wedding kicked off at about 8.30pm. Everyone arrived at the wedding and nobody was eating or drinking until the ceremony took place. To be honest, it was probably the best ceremony I have seen (though I have only seen 3). It started with a bit of Reggae music, where the bride and groom walked into the back garden. Then in front of all 140 people that were there, a small table with a desk lamp had been set up. They sat down with the accompanying witnesses and with the person officiating the wedding (not a priest- I forget the name). Anyway, they read out some stuff in Spanish and then after about 10 minutes, it was fiesta time. Short, sweet and to the point. 
I felt like it wasn’t actually a wedding, but rather a get together of professional dancers. They all had their special Argentinian dance moves and I had my well....my fist pumping....anyway, it was good fun. The dancing actually lasted until about 6am- so it was a pretty big night. Somewhere through the night, at around 3.am. everyone stopped and a guy stood up and sung for everyone. I don’t know what he was saying, but it sounded good and everybody loved it. Then probably about 4.am the bride and groom both jumped in the pool.
